A sleepy voice startled me.
"You're probably freezing. Come here,"
"It's nothing I can't handle," I assured her.
An aggravated sigh came from the bed.
"Don't be stubborn, come here," she said firmly.
"Aren't you demanding?" I joked. She raised an eyebrow at me. I sighed as I rose from the chair and crossed the room to the bed.
"Climb in," she instructed as she pulled back the duvet.
"Oh, no, just tell me where I can find a blanket. The chair is really not that bad," I insisted.
Another exasperated sigh. She really didn't like having anyone disagree with her.
"There aren't any other blankets, and it's freezing," she said.
"It wouldn't be appropriate. I can't impose"
"You haven't tried anything yet, even though you've had plenty of opportunity. That tells me you're a decent person. We need to do what we must to survive this storm."
"What if I accidentally kick you or something?" I really couldn't think of a reason not to get into the bed. It would be a lot more comfortable than the chair.
"Then I'll kick you back," she said with a mischievous look in her eye, and I didn't doubt her answer.
"Well, ok," I gave in and got under the covers.
"Good night," she said. I yawned before responding, "Good night, Amelia," and closed my eyes.
*****
I awoke to find Amelia shaking beside me. She was mumbling something incoherently. Drops of sweat covered her forehead, and her face was flushed. Her breathing was ragged, and her face scrunched up in pain. Even in her sleep, she wasn't giving in to the pain. I couldn't help thinking how strong she must be.
I lay my hand on her forehead and felt her burning up. I jumped out of the bed and got a bowl of water and a towel as she continued mumbling in her sleep. I dipped the towel in the cold water and wrung it out before placing it above her brow.
"It's OK," I said gently. "You're going to be alright."
I kept soaking the towel in cold water each time it grew hot from her brow. Eventually, her breathing steadied. Then she opened her eyes and croaked "water".
I quickly fetched a glass of water and helped her drink.
She lay back down with a heavy sigh and closed her eyes again.
"Brandon?" She called out weakly.
"I'm here," I assured her while grabbing her hand. She was shaking. "I'm not going anywhere," I said and stroked her hair until she was asleep again.
I spent the next couple of hours changing the wet towel on her head and keeping the fire going. She didn't stir, and I worried about her fever.
I found some roasted chicken and potatoes in the fridge and warmed it up. I woke her up to feed her so she could take some more painkillers. She only managed a few mouthfuls before shaking her head and laying back in exhaustion. I gave her the medication. She groaned but drank the entire glass of water. I let her go back to sleep and resumed putting the cold towel on her brow.
As she slept more peacefully, I couldn't help take in her appearance. I hadn't looked at her properly since I found her out in the snow.
Her eyelashes were long and delicate, casting faint shadows upon her cheeks. Her lips were full and softly contoured, reminded me of ripened fruit. Curls framed her face in a tumble, her hair a rich blend of browns, from chestnut to dark blonde. The firelight danced upon her skin, painting her cheeks with a flush of crimson. She looked to be in her late twenties. Why was she living on the side of a mountain, so far away from civilisation? Had she no family? She was a mystery.
*****
I jumped at the sound of whimpering. I had fallen asleep again. I looked at Amelia. Her face was covered in sweat, but her cheeks were less flushed. I placed my hand on her forehead and was glad to feel it wasn't burning hot.
I got up and stretched. This chair was really doing a number on my back. I turned and saw the fire had died again. I built another fire with the last of the logs and lit it. I wondered how I was going to get more firewood.
It was dark outside, and the wind was still howling. Had it been a day or two since I'd found Amelia? Three days? I had no idea.
I rubbed my eyes and yawned. I searched for something to use to cut some firewood. My eyes landed on an axe by the door. I put on my coat and gloves before picking it up and heading outside.
The freezing wind hit me as soon as I stepped outside. I shivered as I watched the snow fall. It hadn't stopped. The snow was knee-deep. I waded through it, pushing forward against its weight. It felt like I was battling it as my breath came in clouds, and my legs felt heavy. The cold was biting my face.
I made my way to the side of the cabin where I saw a pile of large uncut logs and a tree stump. I brushed away the snow that had piled on it. I dragged a large log and put it on the stump. Holding the axe with both hands, I was surprised by its weight. I braced myself and bent my knees. I steadied myself and swung the axe above my head. I took a deep breath and swung it down with all my might.
There was a resounding crack as the axe hit the wood. I felt a rush of pride at having accomplished it. I had never attempted anything like this before. I swung again and split the log all the way through. I quickly replaced it and swung again. I found my rhythm and chopped up a decent amount of firewood. I stacked it up and carried it inside.